Erasure of a Shadow
by NyxBlade
Summary: TeikoEra! Oneshot! Kuroko has lost everything that matters: his friends and his love of basketball. What next?


**_A/n: Hello, everybody. Please bear with me; I'm typing this on my phone, and I have no idea how to insert a line break. Thank you all for reading, and I hope you all review._**

 ** _Trigger Warnings: Suicide._**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own the Kuroko no Basuke; if I did, it would have less basketball and more shirtless men._**

He stared down at the envelope in his hands.

It was, in itself, a plain, ordinary thing; one could stop at any department store and buy 50 ones like it in a bulky package. The flap was sealed with a quick swipe of a tongue, like most envelopes are. It contained a letter, also like most envelopes; a brief, three sentence long letter written with in plain, ordinary black ink from a plain, ordinary ball-point pen on plain, ordinary white computer paper. There was no delivery instructions, return address, nor a stamp; he planned on delivering it personally, after all. The front only had two words- two lonely words written in plain, ordinary black ink from a plain, ordinary permanent marker.

 **Resignation Letter**

 _To Captain Akashi Seijuro,_

 _I am resigning from the Teiko Middle School Basketball Club. Thank you for your consideration._

 _Sincerely, Kuroko Tetsuya._

He held his letter tight in his hands, crumpling the edges slightly. He trembled, his resolve wavering. His letter represented the end of an era- the end of what made him whole. He wouldn't regret it, not now.

He walked calmly through the halls, his faint presence assisting him greatly; he remained unbothered by fellow students or teachers. He turned the corner and arrived at his destination: the Sports Department office. The six foot door stood resolute to him, like the gates to a fortress, strong, sturdy, and intimidating. He opened the door and deposited his letter into the basketball team's designated tray. He left, quickly, before a former teammate or acquaintance could ask him what he was doing here; he didn't think he could manage explaining before finally breaking down.

Basketball used to be his one true love- his ultimate passion in life. It meant the world to him.

Once, a long time ago, he didn't know what it was, or how to play; he saw some middle schoolers playing a game in the neighborhood court, laughing and smiling even though half of them lost. It looked fun. So, one afternoon, he went to the court himself after school. This time, he saw a lone boy his age.

"Didn't know anyone my age liked this game. Wanna play a game?"

He did; he wanted to know what the fun was all about, too. The problem was he had no idea how to play; it became evident soon enough.

"Dude. You suck."

"I only started playing today. That's pretty rude of you."

"Sorry, here let me show you. The name's Ogiwara, but you can call me Shige-niichan."

"I'm Kuroko Tetsuya, Ogiwara-kun."

"I told you, Tetsu; call me, Shige-niichan!"

"Whatever you say, Ogiwara-kun."

"You little..."

This was the start of something beautiful.

Ogiwara moved away a year or so after they met, but he still kept contact with him via text. He missed his only friend; due to his weak presence, no one noticed he was there. Nobody noticed his existence until he made it known. They would all react in shock, calling him a ghost or a demon. "I was here the whole time" practically became his catchphrase of sorts.

The same thing occurred throughout middle school as well, only to a larger degree; a bigger school meant more people which meant more things to focus on other than him. He tried- more than anything else- to be noticed again, to belong again. But to no avail; each time he was noticed, something else more attention-grabbing would pop up and he'd be forgotten again. Basketball remained his link to his only friend, so he clinged to it like it was a lifeline, because to him it was. So he practiced alone in an empty gym, empty because it was supposedly haunted and everyone was scared of being cursed by the ghost, by him.

Ogiwara texted him, as rare of an occurrence as it was. He said he joined Meiko's basketball club.

He followed suit, eager to do anything to see his friend again, even if it meant facing each other on opposite sides of the court. He'd do it, because basketball became his life. He signed his name in his tiny, negligible scrawl on the audition sheet, filled in the packets of paperwork by forging his parents signature since they were always at work, and showed up at 8:00 am on a Saturday just for a chance at getting in.

He only managed to get onto third string, barely.

His stamina was wretched and he could barely shoot. He definitely lagged behind the rest of the group while running laps. In comparison to the first strings who ran around with ease and never missed a single shot, his performance was abysmal. Still, he never felt more motivated; he could- no, he would- get stronger. He had a goal to become first string.

He would make Ogiwara proud.

A week later, after practice, he was called over by a heterochromatic redhead, the vice captain Akashi, Nijimura's heir apparent.

"I've seen you practice, Tetsuya. My predissor did not use your strengths to their full effect. Meet me in the 4th gym now."

Even if he wanted to, he couldn't have dared to refuse him, not with that gleam in his yellow, snake-like eye.

In the gym, there was another group there: a green-haired one with glasses carrying a Hello Kitty doll, a purple giant snacking on barbecue potato chips, and a dark-skinned man angrily glaring at anything and everything.

"Why is that third string here, Akashi-kun?"

"Yeah. Hate to agree with Four-Eyes over there, but he looks pretty weak."

"Daiki, you and Tetsuya will face off against Atsushi and Shintaro."

"What? Fine, I guess. Just pass to me when you get the chance..."

Playing with Aomine was like playing with Ogiwara again; he both had overly aggressive playing styles and were filled with energy and love for the game. He felt home, again, like every missing piece in the universe fell into place.

They won; their makeshift team beat the other two first strings 45-57. It felt good to play as a shadow again, his fated role.

"Tetsuya will now be joining the first string as a regular player."

No one argued.

He became close with the other regulars, especially Aomine, his new light. The other reacted weirdly when he first propositioned him, asking if he could be the shadow that amplified Aomine's light. It took a while to explain, but he was accepted as his shadow. They played some basketball games to further their teamwork, but it wasn't necessary; the shadow-light duo fit together like cogs in a machine, never falling out of alignment. Aomine completed him, gave him a reason to use his ability, gave him purpose.

They bonded during school as well; he helped Aomine with his studies and Aomine helped announce his presence. He would drag Aomine to the school library, sometimes, and they both would end up with a good book. They ate lunches together on the roof with the other regulars as well. They went to Maji, too; he for his essential vanilla milkshake and Aomine for his daily order of 22 teriyaki burgers. They were practically tied at the hip; if someone wanted to find one, they simply asked the other.

He became close to the other members, too. He'd give Murisakibara the portions of his lunch he didn't eat, and the gentle giant would sometimes give him a piece of vanilla flavored candy. More times than not, they'd both bask in a comfortable silence no one else could appreciate.

His relationship with Midorima was mostly professional; they both entrusted the other to perform well and that was that. Over time he realized what a tsundere the man was; Midorima would help him in little ways, like offering his water on the days he forgot, always adding "It's not like I care, or anything" at the end. Denial also seemed to be the man's best friend; if "I was here the whole time" was his catchphrase, "I'm not a tsundere- nanodayo" would be Midorima's.

Akashi was intimidating, always found with a pair of sharp, red scissors somehow hidden on his person to be used on insubordinate idiots or for the occasional brazen enemy; he was often likened to a demon from Hell. Akashi was confident, self-assured; the man practically oozed charisma. No one defied Akashi, and those who did are no longer around...

That being said, he was grateful to Akashi; not only did the man place him as a regular, but Akashi helped him develop his basketball style after school. He knew, underneath those layers of ice, Akashi did care for his teammates. _"Make sure you eat more than just milkshakes, Tetsuya. You need more vitamins and nutrients."_

He liked their manager, too: a bubbly, energetic girl who knew everything by the name of Momoi. They had first met off the court. He was walking home with a vanilla popsicle from a convience store he and Aomine went to. He had finished it- devoured it and its vanilla glory, leaving only a stick with the word **winner**. He didn't need the prize; his parents made more than enough money with all the work they did. He gave the stick to the next person he met, which happened to be a certain pink-haired girl. She yelled at him at first, before she forgot who she was so angry at. Then, she looked at the stick. Ever since, she's developed a crush on him, as it were.

Ogiwara had stopped texting him, for the most part; he understood. He, too, was extremely busy with classwork and basketball practice and the other stresses that accompany being a third year in a highly competitive school whose motto is "eternal victory".

He didn't think anymore of it, being too involved with his new friends.

A year later, he was asked by Akashi, who had then became captain, to instruct a new recruit. He was chosen by default: Akashi too busy, Aomine too hot-head, Murisakibara too concerned with his snacks, and Midorima too peculiar. He was the only one left.

The blonde's name was Kise Ryota; he was a rather attractive male, blessed with good looks, and he was aware of it, too. Kise put on a bubbling persona to the world, appearing harmless and dim-witted. Kise's cheerfulness was merely a facade; he knew this from years of people watching, years of having nothing to do but observe as he was forgotten by the rest of the world. The real Kise was mature and cunning, like a fox.

Kise didn't respect him, at first; he thought he was weak because he never played one-on-one. He never rebuked Kise for it, far too used to being underestimated. Instead, he taught to the best of his ability.

In retrospect, it was a miracle that Kise could notice him long enough to even learn anything.

Teiko had a game against another school. Kise came to watch and, hopefully, learn some new moves. He was playing alongside Murisakibara, Midorima, a senior player named Haizaki, and, of course, Aomine. Never before had he shown Kise his skills; to someone unused to his ghost-like skills, it must have come as such a shock.

From that moment on, Kise always referred to him as "Kurokocchi", a rather annoying nickname. He was flattered, though; very few people even noticed him, never mind caring enough to bestow upon him a nickname. Kise became clingy, too. He didn't mind; he was grateful for the attention, in a way, even if it was a little overbearing at times.

Kise's training was quickly completed due to his copycat skills. Kise then joined the first string regulars. People started calling them the Generation of Miracles.

Haizaki, on the other hand, was kicked off the basketball team; he had the temperament of a violent gang member and the vocabulary to match. He was the miracle that never was.

Two years soon past. Their team was unmatched, no other even coming close to their talent. Effortlessly, they won time and time again, doubling or even tripling the other teams' score.

Some may say that was the height of their careers, a shining star of success.

He would say it was when they were at their lowest, a vast abyss of nothingness. If anyone bothered to ask him, that is.

Victory was the only thing that mattered in Teiko; the entire school lived by this principle. His team was undefeated. For them, victory was assured. As such, they went unchallenged. There became no point in getting stronger because they were the strongest people around.

First, it was Aomine. He was always the most undisciplined of the lot, constantly skipping class and reading his beloved "Mai-chan" magazines. Kise was second. His ability made it easy to grow powerful; all he needed was one look, and just like that he'd get a stronger, better version of his opponent's move. He didn't need to put in any effort to get stronger. Murisakibara was third, only showing up to tag along with Akashi. Midorima was fourth, showing up for appearance's sake and nothing more. Akashi still was there, if only because he was captain and thus was required to appear, but he didn't practice himself.

His teammates stopped going to practice. As long as each member reached their 20 point quota, everything was alright. They stopped working together, more than content to stay holed up in their own little worlds.

They weren't even a team anymore, just a group of individuals cobbled together for the sake of winning.

Since they were no longer a team, they didn't need him to pass anymore. He was given purpose only to have it cruelly snatched away.

Basketball, for all intents and purposes, was his life. Now, he couldn't play- how could he play without any light to shadow? He could try, of course, but it wouldn't be the same. It'd be empty, just like the old days, when he was dribbling a basketball all alone on the court because no one wanted to be friends with someone they could never see. He was a blind man given sight, seeing the world in all its beautiful wonders, only to lose it again, squandering in the darkness forevermore.

He went to the convience store with Aomine after school. It was a day in December, near the end of their second term.

He had to find Aomine at his spot on the roof since Aomine always hated his last class, Algebra. Aomine was distant, recently; he practically had to beg just for just one last outing.

He got his standard vanilla popsicle, and Aomine got a soda. Aomine paid, just like old times.

It was silent and awkward between them, not a word was spoken. They went past the park, near the basketball courts, when Aomine finally piped up.

 _"I don't even remember how to catch your passes anymore, Tetsu."_

Aomine walked away, not sparing him a second glance.

Had anyone looked, they would've seen his face, the embodiment of utter despair and defeat.

But nobody bothers to look at a shadow.

Ogiwara's middle school was coming to face their team in a tournament final. He was excited to see Ogiwara again; Ogiwara stopped texting him a few years ago.

He wouldn't be playing; the team had no use for him. But, it would be nice to see Ogiwara play.

He shouldn't have been so naive. Why did he think it would go well?

The friends he knew were no more, replaced with power high fools who sold their souls for victory. Why should the feelings of their opponents matter to them when they were so far beyond? Why did he expect them to be understanding?

They messed with Ogiwara's team; the only points they scored were the ones the GoM let them score. They made it obvious to the other team, too, yet the spectators never realized. The GoM played with Ogiwara's team not as equals, but like a predator with its prey.

This, in itself, was not a new thing; every game they played recently have all been the same way. So why did he think they would be different this time?

Why did he let them fall this far?

He was the biggest fool of them all.

"Hey, Tetsu. Nice to see you again."

"Likewise, Ogiwara-kun."

"I... always waited for you to text me. I always thought you would. For years, I waited for you to remember me; I guess you were too busy with your friends..."

"Ogiwara-kun, I..."

"Don't worry, Tetsu. How could I compete with the likes of them? ...I'm just joking; I know how you are: never an instigator. You were waiting for me, too, huh?"

"Yes, Ogiwara-kun. I thought you were too busy..."

"It's fine, it's fine. Don't worry about it. Hey, Tetsu..."

"Yes?"

"That team of yours is something else. I heard the rumors, but I never believed them. They were so strong... It's as if they weren't even human. Compared to power like that, a normal person like me... is nothings. All my hard work, hours of practice... all for naught..."

"Don't say that, Ogiwara-kun."

"It's the truth, though. Nothing I've done to get stronger could ever raise me to their level. My dreams of becoming the best... are meaningless."

"Ogiwara-kun..."

"... I've decided to quit basketball, Tetsu. I... I hope you have fun with your new friends. It was nice to see you again..."

He stared down at the envelope in his hands.

It was, in itself, a plain, ordinary thing, but that envelope was the product of his great regret, guilt, and ultimate failure as both a friend and teammate.

It was an empty gesture, though. He was all but off the team anyways, a mere rag being of more use. This would only officiate it.

 **Resignation Letter**

Would good was it now, though? His negligence, his blindness, cost his best friends dreams. His stupidity cost his other friends their passion, their drive; because of him, their inner fires have all burnt out, leaving an empty, charred husk. How could a single letter repair any of that?

Could it even be fixed?

His letter represented the end of an era- the end of what made him whole. He wouldn't regret it, not now.

He returned to his house after his mail delivery. He waddled back into his spartan, white and teal room. As usual, his house was filled only with ghosts- ghosts of a time long past, back when the sun shined brighter and the world was still filled with promise.

His parents weren't home; his mother was a model, thus she traveled globally for shoots, and his father was a CEO of a large tech company and needed to attend meetings also on a global scale. He never blamed them. If their work was so important to them, then who was he to interupt it. Besides, they always payed the bills and his tuition. A phone call every once in a while would be nice though, but he didn't blame them; they were busy.

Sometimes, though, he wonders if his parents had forgotten him as well.

His house was a fairly remote place; it was in a nice enough neighborhood where the nearest house was at least 50 meters away and the neighbors were content just to stay out of each other's business.

It was a nice place, but it still reminded him of how empty and alone he was; before, he had friends, but now he has no one...

It would be so easy to kill himself, to rid himself of this gnawing loneliness he could feel slowly devouring his heart. He would also rid the world of him- an awful screwup who saw his friends fading away and _**nothing**. _

Nobody would miss him; if anything, they'd be happy he's gone. No more pathetic screwup to hold the team back anymore. No more weak, useless tagalong. No more waste of space that would give everyone around him heart attacks. No more demon. No more ghost.

No more shadow.

He found a low-baring rafter he could use. Even with the low rafter, he still needed to use a tall stool. Spotless, white linen curved around a pale neck, ready for its new purpose.

He jumped.

Flailing limbs kick over the stool- his only chance of going back. A lithe body struggles against its survival instincts. His chest constricts. He can't breathe. He did it wrong; of course he has to make his own noose incorrectly and screwup literally the last thing he ever did, and now he can't breathe.

It's okay, though. Because the end result is the same. Death will come for him; death, at least, would never forget his existence.

A body stills, swaying from a snow-white rope, with clouded-over teal eyes and a beautiful, carefree smile.

"Hey, Kurokocchi! Do you have the notes on Kimuri-Sensei's class? I had work that day...

"Kurokocchi, your door's unlocked! You need to be careful about these things...

"Kurokocchi? Are you there? Hey, I'm coming in...

"Where are you, Kurokocchi? This isn't funny anymore. You're really freaking me out...

"Kurokocchi!!"

 _"Ryota, I told you not to call unless it's an emergency. This better be good."_

 _"Akashi, it's about Kuroko. He's dead."_


End file.
